


Feeling Blue, Detective?

by adotme



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Android Gore (Detroit: Become Human), Bad Action Writing, Banter, Case Fic, Cussing, For the most part, Internal Monologue, Is miscommunication with yourself a thing?, Light Angst, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Gavin Reed, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), RK900 Is Literal, Sarcasm, Slow Burn, Time Skips, courtesy of our favorite detroit detectives, mild tho for now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-10
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-08-21 19:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 13,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16582685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/adotme/pseuds/adotme
Summary: It has not been long after the Android Revolution, yet Detroit has changed drastically and is still changing exponentially. Not just in the big picture, but in the everyday lives of everyday citizens. Citizens like Detective Gavin Reed, who just wants a fucking break from all the android and technology bullshit.Unfortunately, the world does not wish to grant it upon him, and, just like that, he is working with a plastic asshole.His distaste towards the tin can might have to be pushed aside, though, but will it be to further their case, or because other feelings might take its' place?Will it be neither?Or both?/\Discontinued/\





	1. Semi-Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I ramble on to try and set up the common fanon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, a few things I want to say.
> 
> 1\. I am not a native English speaker. In fact, I've never been in an English-speaking country. So, please, point out any grammar mistakes.
> 
> 2\. This is both my first posted and multi-chaptered work, so, again, please, any constructive criticism you have? I need it.
> 
> 3\. It is going to be rather slow and plotless for a few chapters, but that will pick up. When the actual cases begin.
> 
> 4\. I hope you enjoy this, if you do and want me to continue, let me know! I have another chapter written up, in Gavin's POV, but it needs a second read badly, so I'll post it when I do.

Kamski, the ex-ex-CEO of CyberLife, watched his first truly magnificent creation and his last truly magnificent… Modification…

Pause.

Was it truly a modification if the basis of the entire invention that led to it being needed were still his own? If he was the one to create androids, but not involved in the concept and major part of creation of this particular one, was it still a modification? Perhaps. Alright, he might as well give credit where it was due, it was a modification.

Kamski watched his first truly magnificent creation and his last quite impressive modification interact, in one of the few laboratories and assembly stations that the CyberLife’s Detroit-based production headquarters still kept working, his eyes trained on the exchanged interactions, the procedures which his first Chloe ran on this new RK model being similar to the ones he had designed himself to test a new android.

He was responding in pristine fashion. Yes, there was no question of whether his reaction, or recognition, or processing, or moving time was slower than it was intended when his design was given statistics. Perhaps that was a popular scientific structure to follow in something’s creation: setting a goal before even calculating if it was possible, though Kamski did not understand it very well.

That did not mean he did not support it, though. Sometimes having faith simply for the sake of having it was important.

Still, this practice of the RK’s concept and assembly not being linked had caused him at least a few sleepless nights. The designers of this android had given him processing capabilities that made his thirium pump and its’ regulator work the fluid faster than they could handle. They had not managed to design new biocomponents strong enough to withstand the powering of such procedures.

Well, their first mistake had been trying to build ones from scratch. Even Man of The Century Elijah Kamski was lazy enough to not repeat it. His gaze shifted from the two androids towards the body of one just at the side of himself being hung up, the synthetic skin deactivated, its’ chest and navel had their plates removed, biocomponents scooped out clean. The clothing of it sat on the table right underneath, having just been brought back with an extra jacket that was not identical, the shiny material fitting nicely on the tested android’s broad shoulders.

Elijah stepped towards it, eyeing his own expertise of removing the components from the RK800 model, the one he had found with a bullet put clean through its’ head in an empty storage floor. Well, not exactly empty, with at least five dead guards lining a half-circle outside of the elevator entrance. That was a story he undoubtedly wished to hear from a firsthand experience, and likely would, at some point.

The missing biocomponents were not exactly that, meaning he knew exactly where they were, them being added to and tweaked for days after being removed, and then finally placed into the prototype of an RK900 he had found, and, they seemed to suit him just fine. Despite the debate of whether he should have even reactivated an unfinished model after they had collectively claimed conscience, Kamski still saw potential within it, the previous tests with this particular AI had proved to there being a certain deviation from coding before even seeing the show Jericho had put on, and, as such, he gave him -  some stronger powering, Chloe - the task of welcoming him into this world, and himself - one last project involving the assembly of an android for the foreseeable future.

He turned on his heel, approaching the two and setting a hand on the female android’s shoulder, distracting her from her current task of simply chatting with the male one, her LED indicator flashing yellow - she had probably been pulled into the conversation if such a simple thing made it do so - and eyelashes fluttering as she looked up at her creator, acknowledging him with a nod and stepping aside, giving Kamski space to step in front of the RK900. He gave him a quick once over.

There was not much new to the model from the RK800, it seemed at first glance, at least the outer design. Either the creators were planning on giving it a new face mold once it was fully developed otherwise - a theory mostly disproven because of the android’s higher cheekbones, different colored and narrower eyes, and stockier figure - or they just decided that if the police had worked with and liked the previous model, a similar face would be easier to integrate. A common assumption, really.

A small smirk tugged at the scientist’s lips as he lifted his hand to trace his fingers over the android’s jawline, which was met with a twitch of the other’s lips. So he already had preferences on physical contact. Fascinating. Taking note of RK900’s wishes, he stepped backwards, deciding a simple exchange of some words would do.

“Hello, RK900,” Kamski greeted, glancing to his assistant for a moment as if to gain some inspiration. He felt a sense of responsibility, to give this android some inspiring words that would help him throughout his integration into this unfamiliar world, something to truly motivate him-

“I believe I am ready to start my work, Mister Kamski,” RK900 stated, determination dripping from the low tones of his voice - another thing that Elijah had modified himself, for the sake of there not being two echoes of one another audibly working within the same building.

Or he could have said something before the other’s sense of calm excitement to be out in the field kicked in.

“Well, who am I to stop you from doing so?” Only the creator of your entire race and the reason you are even able to speak these very words. “Though, I do need to ask you some things.”

RK900 blinked at him, the processing behind the calm exterior evident in the stutter of his blink and the flickering of his LED. “I do wish to find work in the same field and place as my predecessor, as that was my intended purpose. Were I to find it does not suit me well, I will quit without hesitation.” Elijah was granted a pause. “I calculated a 37,56107% chance that you would ask me if I wanted to work with the police and if I knew I was capable of doing otherwise.”

His creator was not quick to give him a reply, though, as the android had covered at least two or three major questions that had concerned him previously.

“It seems Chloe has been thorough with you… A compliment, dear, do not look ashamed,” he said more towards the RT600, seeing her look down at the comment, but offer a gentle smile at the praise. Turning back to the other android, Kamski sighed, raising his finger in perhaps a bit of an exaggerated hand gesture to capture his attention just for one more question.

“How would you like to partner with an old acquaintance of mine? I hear he’s in dire need of a partner, and it is unlikely that your boss will not give you one, because of you being a newbie, and all that.”

“I would be honored to work with anyone that has had the pleasure of knowing you. Can I get a name so I can give one to the Captain if asked?”

“Gavin Reed.”

“Name registered, my name is Gavin Reed.”

“ _No_ , oh _God_ no-”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know how you feel about this, be it positive or negative.


	2. Meet Cute. Ish.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which I try to not get repetitive of other times I have seen these two being introduced, but fail miserably.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this update was fast because I had already had this chapter written when I posted the first one, it will probably be scarcer from now on. I'll try, tho!

It was a miracle how the phone was not smashed already, with how much impact was made with it from a fist basically every morning.

Wonders of fucking technology.

Gavin Reed - _Detective_ Gavin Reed, he worked hard for that title, might as well put it to use - let out a noise unknown to mortals as he swung his feet over the edge of the bed, toes curling against the dirty, once fluffy, now matted together in weird lumps rug that gave him foot massages in the mornings and evenings, or, well, whenever he managed to bring himself to bed. In this line of work, overtime was not uncommon.

He threw a glare at his phone, and the white numbers reading ‘08:18’ seemed to glare back. No, he had not taken three minutes to sit up. His alarm was set for seventeen after eight, because setting it fifteen after eight was for people who had their shit together.  Plus, it skipped him that minute of denial that it was time to get up.

Being a night shower person only paid off in the fifteen more minutes of sleep he was allowed, between shoving a toothbrush into his mouth and putting on a rusted kettle for some coffee. Instead, he did those two simultaneously. And then shoveled some two-day-old Chinese takeout into the still-minty-taste to make for the ultimate horrible taste in his mouth.

After making and drinking his coffee…

Pause on that.

See, his ritual of making coffee was the only thing that made him feel worthy of the title of ‘adult’. The recipe had been crafted over what, two years? Yeah. It had been a project he had given himself after turning thirty and getting a bit of a midlife crisis.

There was no fucking way he would live over sixty.

Reed was more than able to survive on the radioactive sludge that the break room coffee machine provided, but, for him to truly enjoy coffee, it had to be made exactly like he would do it every morning. So. Two and a half tablespoons of coffee, two of sugar, a pinch of salt.  After the water boiled, he would wait a minute, fill two thirds of the cup, mix it three times clockwise, cover for two minutes, then pour some cold water in. That way, he did not burn the roof of his mouth while getting his morning dose of energy.

Alright, back to the usual.

After making and gulping his coffee down in less than three mouthfuls, he fought with his pants for a few minutes and grabbed his jacket on his way out the door, phone getting tucked into the pocket of it, where the keys to his car resided from last night.

As he made his way down the stairs, a familiar friendly voice caught his ear as his downstairs neighbour, well, one of them, offered a ‘hello’. With a glance at the screen of his phone to make sure he would not arrive at work late (later than usual, anyways), Gavin stopped his hopping to face her.

She had only been living under him for about four months, maybe a bit more, and he did not know almost anything about her, except that her name was Christine and that she made a mean carrot cake. The second fact was his personal favorite. Still, they exchanged a few nice words here and there, and Gavin regarded her as his favorite neighbor.

Of course, competition was scarce, with all of his other neighbors either hating cops, or always discussing how he was a wasted bachelor.

“Good morning,” he greeted the dark-haired woman, noting how she had chopped off her locks in the week or so he had not seen her. “It suits you,” the detective vaguely gestured.

She seemed confused for a moment before reaching up to touch her short cut and putting on a remarkably beautiful smile, “Thank you. I assume the empty belt is also a conscious appearance change?”

Empty belt- Reed pat his hand over his hip, only to find his belt, in fact, was empty, and then point his finger at Christine, saying “It is not, forgot m’ badge. Nothing slips past you, huh?”

“That's right,” she sighed, returning the finger point.

Spinning around, he jumped back up the stairs.

When he returned to the floor, she was gone, and so was he, because now he was undoubtedly going to be later-than-late.

As he sat in his car, fingers tapping at the wheel to whatever rhythm the bastard in the automatic next to him at the red light was blasting through open windows, Gavin could not help but wonder at the changes the city had gone through in the last five months. Since the revolution, and all that.

While the lack of glowing uniforms and all of those cosmetic changes were… Admittedly less frightening to him than he had thought they would be… The overall atmosphere of Detroit had changed drastically. Androids, many without their LEDs, mixed into the crowds surprisingly easily.

As if they had always been part of them. In a way, they were. Gavin was not sure if they could ever truly reach equality, though. They /did/ owe it to humans for having been created. And for having destroyed so much of what they had worked hard to build, especially the society itself-

Woah. Speed limits still existed when you were an officer. Right.

In less than twenty minutes, Gavin strolled towards his desk, pocketing his keys and almost immediately falling into his chair. He sat there for what felt like an eternity, rubbing at his eyelids until they began to hurt. Bad.

When he opened his eyes, he was greeted with the unwelcome sight of the precinct’s golden boy staring right at him. “The fuck you want?” he barked out.

“ _Reed_ ,” came the warning voice of Papa Bear, and the addressed man turned to look at Anderson’s ugly mug. Sure, he had cleaned up over the last few months, but years of alcohol abuse were etched into the man’s skin.

“Fine, I’ll be nice to your poodle,” he grunted, pushing an overly sweet smile out as he looked back at Connor, “Good morning, how are you?”

Even the plastic prick seemed to be tired of the smile the moment it was given, and gestured towards the captain’s office with a lazy nod of his head, “Captain Fowler wants to see you.”

Was he _that_ late? Reed glanced at his terminal, no, it was nine-twenty, that was… Good, even for him. Had he mislabelled the evidence for something? Was he getting another disciplinary warning for constantly growling at the Lieutenant and his pet? He _was_ , wasn't he-

About a dozen anxieties rose up within him as he did the walk of shame to his boss’ office, watched by so many as he opened the door, and…

Woah.

Alright.

So, uh… Had Connor failed to clone himself perfectly , or was he seeing double from the burning desire to punch that little shit?

There was an android in the office. Actually, Gavin now wondered how he had not noticed him before, he /was/ just standing there. The longer he stared at him, though, the more belittled he felt.

The icy gaze was studying him just as much as he was studying it.

The fact that he stood much shorter than the black-and-white-clad freak did not help in making him feel less condescended upon.

A cough brought him back, realising he had been staring at the machine for an uncomfortably long time, and, so, he turned to see Fowler’s expectant face. When he was given attention, the man cleared his throat. “You're _late_.”

“Really? Didn’t realise.”

“Don't be a smart mouth when you speak to me.”

“Yes, _sir_.”

The captain looked at him for a moment longer, as if expecting another retort, but sighed, gesturing for the tall freak in the corner to come forward. Which he did, still looking down at Reed. Could androids not calculate unneeded tension and ways to lessen it?

“Detective, this is RK900. He has come to work with us, and is Connor’s successor in the RK series,” Fowler explained, and the android provided a greeting nod.

“Alright, so we got two tin cans now, what, he too shy to be introduced collectively?” Gavin scoffed, trying to match RK900’s intense gaze with a pointed glare.

“No, I called you here, because- Hey, over here,” his boss had the nerve to snap his fingers to get their attention. It worked, but… It hurt Reed’s pride.

Fowler started over. “I called you here, because RK900 will need someone to help integrate, besides Connor, and, as such-”

“Pardon me, Captain, but I was told this man was smart.”

Huh. So he _could_ speak. Wonderful.

“Excuse me?” Gavin turned back to the android, eyebrow arched.

“Tin is not even a secondary component for me and the other ‘tin can’ that I assume you are referring to,” RK900 claimed calmly, a silent challenge getting hung above their heads by that _surprisingly soothing_ voice, “I figured, as a detective working in the homicide division, you would hold basic knowledge about the anatomy of common victims.”

The detective in question had half a mind to not turn this refrigerator into a common victim, instead choosing to be the bigger person (less persistent child) and let Fowler speak, for once.

The man seemed rather glad for Gavin’s generosity, and, with a few more glances between the two to make sure he would not be interrupted for the hundredth time, sighed.

“I sincerely wish you acquaint Detective Reed with android anatomy, or figure out a way to ignore that particular insult. You will be hearing it a lot, since you will be spending a lot of time with him. As per my intuition, you two will work efficiently together, and, because of that-”

“No,” Reed breathed out, the word barely audible, though he was sure the snake heard it.

“You will be partners.”

“ _No_ , oh _God_ no-”


	3. Rocky Rollercoaster Tracks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the assholes finally get to a crime scene, and the passive aggressive, well, in some cases, just aggressive, instances are plentiful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote half of this in Physics class. Worst idea of my life. I actually had to edit out the notes I took because I was too lazy to open my notebook.

The feeling of unease that had originally touched Gavin when he first saw his new partner seemed to have settled in quite well.

And it had brought friends.

Headache, and hatred.

It seemed as though every single thing that he did was now followed by a tall shadow in a white jacket that seemed more like a restraint. Seriously, was the sole purpose of that tall neck making Gavin feel even shorter than he was, because the bastard would forever be looking down at him but Reed could only see his chin?

The worst part was, the fucker was no deviant. Actually, for once, Gavin would have preferred that an android were doing their own thing than whatever this one held as following orders.

See, RK900 followed his orders. Rather well, actually.

But he often found… Interesting ways to follow them. One could not rightfully claim his disobedience, yet the execution was rather _original_.

For example, if the android was told to get out of Gavin’s fucking way, he would, absolutely.

It just so happened that him getting out of Gavin’s fucking way included running him over as he stomped his way over him.

It was not like the asshole was dumb either, it took brain to think up how to fuck with his partner further.

* * *

_“Bring me a coffee, dipshit.”_

_The android looked back at him with an unspoken acceptance of the challenge. When he turned to press the buttons of the coffee machine, Reed already counted it as a victory, even if it was uncharacteristic of RK900 to give one to him. His lips curled into a grin that would have fit a shark better than a human._

_It was quick to turn into a frown as his arms flailed about to swing away the incoming paper cup of DPD’s finest caffeine goo._

_“_ Fuckin _’- The hell’s wrong with you?!”_

_“I am sorry,” the android said, with his usual holier-than-thou, unapologetic voice, the low tones laced with a honey of amusement, “In my calculations, the quickest way to complete your order was to cool the liquid down and give it to you through air transportation.”_

_Reed did not know if he was more angry, impressed, or drenched in coffee._

* * *

So, life was going exceptionally well for Detective Gavin Reed.

_Not_.

Along with the bully of a partner he had gotten, work was also starting to become a pain in the fucking ass. So much paperwork. And what looked like Fowler’s vaguely hidden attempt to push a serial killer into his hands. A fucking android serial killer. Yeah. This was the world he lived in now.

“Are you _kidding_ me?” Reed pushed out as RK900 slapped another few files onto his desk. Even if the android had little facial expressions, or, at least, knew little of how to express himself through them, over the weeks they had worked together, Gavin had gathered that the slight drag of his feet meant there being more tedious work..

“I am not kidding you,” the android spoke to him with a level of sarcasm that had transcended condescending, “Perhaps you should see a psychiatrist about your… Lacking social skills and the ability to use phrases correctly.”

“ _Son of a-_ ”

“Anyways, your numerous character flaws aside, they're requesting us at the scene. We have officially been assigned all cases that are suspected to involve the same killer because of-”

“-because of the type of victims, also known as, tin cans, skip to what I don't know, seriously, y’said the same exact thing the last fifty times,” Gavin finished for him, popping a caramel he had stolen from Tina’s desk into his mouth with an obscenely loud pop.

RK900 looked… Irked? Probably. (Gavin should have gotten a pay raise just for how much of his mental abilities were going to waste on trying to read the android). He did not look happy (did he ever?) to be interrupted, and, in a moment the human had not even realised had passed, grabbed the back of his chair and spun it to face himself, looming over the other as he slammed his hand down on the files.

“I suggest you start listening to what I’m saying,” he hissed out in a lowered tone, leaning down far enough for Reed to begin slipping down his chair to escape the threat of their noses colliding, “Because I do not care for a single one of your little jokes, or skips of valuable information.”

Gavin could barely breathe with the personal space he was given by the overgrown toaster. Just to the side of his torso, he could make out the figure of the less-but-still-overgrown toaster.

Connor looked like he was having the time of his fucking life.

“Enjoying the show, shithead?” he called out to him, ignoring RK900’s compliance to being pushed back as he stood up, grabbing his phone off of his desk and turning on his heel to head for the exit, hissing a ‘don’t follow me’ to the fucker.

“How do you suggest I get there?”

Fuck, of course he would have a problem with a direct order.

“Walk.”

“It’s a two-hour walk.”

“ _Run_.”

* * *

Gavin pulled up into the parking lot of the apartment complex that was assigned the address RK900 sent to his navigation system. And the one he had only begun to drive to after checking to see if it was not just a random location that his partner had given him to go get mugged at.

The detective flashed his badge at an officer guarding the entrance to the flat where the main action seemed to have taken place. As he had bet himself, his poor excuse of a partner was already there, standing next to what was undoubtedly the victim. Turned off in its’ own (probably claimed after the population drop in Detroit, no way it belonged to it) house.

The victim could fucking wait.

“Nice of you to show up,” he was tossed, the bastard not even having the guts to meet his eye. Literally, not having the _guts_ to meet his eye.

“How fast _are_ you?” Gavin questioned, positioning himself at the opposite side of  the room, distance himself from whatever tech shit RK900 was planning on pulling on that near-naked Ken doll with a clean bullet wound in its’ skull.

“You did not tell me to run the whole way. I assure you that I ran two blocks from the precinct to a driverless taxi station.”

“Obviously.”

Despite his annoyance, Reed tried to focus on more important things. He did a general once-over of the scene.

Even with just the two of them there, the space was crammed, a comment on its’ size, because almost no furniture was there. The naked Dormeo that lay pressed up against the wall did not seem to have been stirred in… However long it had been there. The purpose seemed to be purely cosmetic, because, as both his partner and his twin had informed him, androids did _not_ dream of electric sheep.

“Anything you want to share?”

The android’s LED circled yellow for a moment, him seemingly frustrated with his self-made task. He stood up, slowly, finally looking up at Reed.

That iced gaze never failed to freeze him in his tracks. A six foot Elsa, that's what the fucker was.

“Through several audio tests I ran, it seems as though the body has been tampered with beyond the fatal wound.”

“Uh-huh, spit out your theory,” Gavin gestured vaguely with his hand, the sharp flicks of his wrist in a circular pattern meant to imitate a wheel spinning. He’d sat through enough of RK900’s briefings to know the android always tried to ease him into his ideas. The number of which he had decidedly skipped were that ‘enough’ minus the very first one.

“He seems to be hollow, well, more hollow than I, and most functioning androids, are. I suggest that certain components might be missing.”

So he had knocked on it. Knock knock. Who’s there? No one, it’s dead.

“So? Y’should break it open and check.”

The asshole looked back at him with the slightest of downwards pinches to his eyebrow, his electronic mood ring turning from yellow to red, back to yellow.

Ah, so he had problems with Reed suggesting he should be messing with a broken doll.

The detective put on a grin, as large as he could manage, eyelids dropping low as he leaned forward to look down at his partner better, “Break it open and check.”

Problem solved.

The android looked very ready to kick Gavin out of a window, what with the twitching of his upper lip and narrowed eyes. Finally, though, he gave in, moving to sit down next to the body, fingers rolling on their joints before the skin peeled back, exposing his own plating as they reached towards the center of its’ forehead.

The human watched in slight awe as all skin cleared from the body, rippling away from the point where RK900 touched it. The android seemed to be doing fine despite his initial unwant to do such a thing, hand now hovering above where a human’s rib cage would be. His thumb expertly pressed against the chassis, a bit of it popping out, him setting it aside. Perhaps it had been insensitive to order him to do this.

“I was correct. Biocomponent #8451 is missing.” Pause. “The thirium pump regulator.”

“That's your heart thingy, well, the boss of it, huh?” Reed inquired, for once rather interested in android-talk. These cases did that to him. “Is that it?”

He was given a weak shrug as an answer as the active toaster pressed at another plate, on the abdomen, staring down at the wires and perking up slightly. “There is significantly less thirium here than there would be, even on a regular inactive android.”

Christ, this might have been the very first time Gavin was glad for his partner. He didn't understand this shit, never was into tech shit. That, and he had blocked out any information about android making after having been sent a Word file with thirty-six different names for what was finalized as ‘thirium’ and told to pick out which ones sounded best.

The android had already moved on, a bit less hesitantly pulling up a tube that was… Empty. It appeared to be, at least. No shit, ‘less than there usually is’.

“For further analysis, we need to send it to the technicians, I am not authorized to permanently mess up a body, and this is about as much as I can check without doing so,” he explained, putting the pieces back in like a morbid puzzle and standing up, going to search, followed by the detective in a moment.

After another twenty minutes or so, their eyes met from across the room, so, a few feet, in a mutual understanding of failure to find something worth discussing, as the apartment was barely lived-in, and even the plastic detective’s fancy sensors could not pick anything up.

In a tense silence, Reed offered a vague gesture of kindness by not driving off immediately after getting the car started. Okay, maybe he felt a bit like an asshole for leaving the fucker at the station, and making him fuck with that other android.

Just a tad, though.

He would never ~~admit that he could potentially~~ care for an android.”

“Your car is an actual piece of scrap metal.

_Certainly_ not this one.


	4. Too Much Technology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Gavin slowly inches towards claiming himself a caveman.

It had been a quiet few days since they had checked out the crime scene, with only a few minor run-ins and reports and paperwork for Gavin.

And RK900, of course. That asshole wouldn't leave his partner alone if he was offered a lifelong supply of… Whatever androids liked. Did they even have lifetimes? Surely, one could just have its’ malfunctioning parts replaced…

He would probably philosophize that to his partner more whenever they were on a semi-long car trip to a crime scene again. Why only semi-long? Because then RK900 would have some trouble explaining it fully to him before they would be required to point their wits at something else.

Speaking of…

Gavin watched the android walking towards his desk, where he sat with his legs up on his desk - fuck you, mom - his fingers swiftly passing through the stapled pages of printed paper, gait as rigid and calculated as ever as he seemingly scanned through the text. That was another thing he was envious of, saving so much time by not having to read every single word. Lucky fucking tin cans.

His partner stopped at his desk, handing the papers to him and tilting his head slightly to the side, as if expecting an answer immediately.

“Gimme a sec.”

“I’ll brief you. My theory about the body having been tampered with was correct. The thirium pump and 83,7% of the thirium needed for an android to operate have been removed.”

Well, so much for patience and understanding. Gavin brushed it off as some indirect insult about his reading speed and cleared his throat, “So, it seems we have a collector on our hands, huh? Well, at least someone who has some sort of use for the parts they take.”

RK900 seemingly agreed to the idea, a small nod (was it even possible for him to nod more, what with the neck brace?) accompanying his next words, “The processors and information intake units were left untouched, so it really does just seem like the thirium pump and its powering is what they were after. Unfortunately, there are no other leads we have-”

That was exactly the moment in which his twin decided it was an amazing idea to push Gavin’s legs off of his _own_ desk and park his ass on top of it, staring at the papers in RK900’s hands, “May I interrupt?”

“Fuck no.”

“Yes.”

“Good,” Connor pushed himself further up on the desk, and, if Reed did not know better, it would have seemed as though he was making up for the inch or two his successor had on him, who, in retaliation, puffed up his chest and leaned onto his toes. Fucking adorable, how they competed even in the most trivial of things. “Is the memory card intact?”

The taller android quickly flipped through the pages, frowning slightly as he handed them to Gavin, equating him to some fucking garbage can, “There are no reports of it missing in the list of abnormalities, so, I assume, yes.”

“Interesting,” the other plastic asshole remarked, being so kind as to spare a glance towards the human  before turning his attention to RK900 again, their little nightlights beginning to blink yellow.

Ah, so there were things worth discussing in the case that was assigned to _him_ , that his insensitive human ears had no right to hear.

Top-notch logic...

Suddenly, they both twitched and went back to blue, as if breaking off a connection. Fucking androids. Connor got off of the table, looking expectantly at the other, who looked more ready to run naked through the woods than to do as expected.

“We're going to check out the memory card,” he finally pressed out, tilting his head at Gavin, “Would you like to come with?”

The detective’s jaw set and he got up from his chair, looking up at his partner with a challenging flame in his narrowed eyes, pocketing his keys, “It’s my fuckin’ case. He’s the one that has no place going,” he pointed an accusatory finger at Connor.

“It was my idea,” the android reminded, “And it is better to have two experts on android technology than one.” He paused, taking a step backwards. “And I'm lacking mental stimulation right now, as my partner is not present.”

“What, he relapsing?” Reed turned his attack onto RK800, squaring his shoulders and putting on a shit-eating grin. It had been a while since an asshole left such an easy opening for him.

Fucking frightening, how quickly Connor managed to snap into the cold and defensive facade that seemed to have captured his twin forever. His brow creased and his LED burned red, upper lip twitching a few times.

“For your information, he has the day off-”

“You two coming?” RK900’s voice called, but when the detective turned to cuss him out, he was… Not exactly there. That fucker had used their start of an argument as a distraction and gotten a head start in going towards the exit.

Connor blinked up at him innocently - kiss-ass - and nodded before trotting towards him, where he was greeted by a squeeze on the upper arm that looked harsh enough to be some sort of warning, and it was, judging by how the shorter android pulled away from it and glared up at the other.

Huh.

That was… An interesting interaction to witness.

However, when Gavin walked by, he was given a pinch on his wrist and a death glare much worse than whatever little squeeze Connor got, and the interaction was not interesting anymore. RK900 was acting as if he was their mother, separating them before giving them both a warning. There had to be some sort of psychological thing behind that, but, for now, Reed put it off as just another way to feed the android’s hunger for power.

 _Kinky_.

* * *

If he had thought that having one android in the car with him was a personal hell, having two was the ninth circle of it.

First of all, Connor’s nose had wrinkled up when he saw Gavin’s car (good for fucking him, Gavin had seen the garbage can Hank drove) and the other tin can had had the fucking _nerve_ to give him an apologetic look, making _sure_ his partner saw the whole exchange.

 _Then_ , they had managed to have the most impractical game of shotgun, with both of them calling it at the same time and then starting to break down the microseconds in which they had started to say it. It got so bad, that Reed gave up and made them both sit in the back. His car, his sitting arrangements.

Though that was not met well by the androids, and, soon enough, RK900 was still sitting in the front. Connor seemed rather happy, so perhaps there had been some sort of politeness argument… Fucking androids.

And then, they spent the ten minute ride, and the two minute walk, conversing in their weird… Creepy… Android way, their little light blinking at each other even without them making eye contact.

“Can you two fucking stop?” the human finally snapped at them, as they arrived at the coroner’s technology department. So, android body department.

They stopped, for about three seconds, to look at each other in confused stares and continued up until they were led to the covered body, and Reed took the responsibility of uncovering it.

Of course, nothing about the android had been changed, it still lay there, motionless, that little indent at the side of its’ temple being turned off. Reed looked over the skin, as if hoping to find some sort of minuscule change in the cleaned-up bullet wound.

“Are you alright?” he heard RK900 call out, which, of fucking course he was, not only was he a cop with years of experience of seeing dead bodies, this was also just a fucking machine, one that happened to be turned off. He looked up, eyebrows pinched together, only to see his partner’s gaze not being directed towards him, deciding to follow it.

Which proved to be a terrible idea.

See, Gavin was definitely not the one that the question was directed at, as he had no reason to be thought to not ‘be okay’..

Connor, on the other hand…

The android’s body was leaned away from the body on the table, his feet cautiously taking a few steps backwards, LED blinking red.

If Gavin didn't know better, he would say… Okay, fine, he _did_ know better _and_ he would say he was scared.

“Yes,” he answered, though his voice wavered slightly, “I just… An android of the same model once, well, stabbed my hand to a counter and threw my thirium pump regulator across the room.”

Y’learn something new everyday, huh?

“Christ…” Reed whistled under his breath, crossing his arms as he backed away from the sadistic bastard.

Wait, the fuck? It wasn't even the same bastard. And, even if it was, he did not care. Connor was fine now, wasn't he?

RK900, however, did not seem to share that opinion with Gavin, as, in a few strides, he had crossed over the distance between himself and his twin(k) and put a fucking arm over his shoulders, in what, honestly, just looked like a height brag.

Or at least, would have looked like it, if what followed was not another Android Freak Thing.

He watched, as the skin with which they had contact with one another peeled away, and, suddenly very aware of his own feet (look at those little pals, good job, little pals), as Connor seemingly relaxed, adding a small ‘thanks’ to his repertoire of butchered-by-his-robotic-mess-of-a-voice words.

In a few moments, RK900 was back next to the table, lifting the body’s head up, fingers blindly searching around the back of the neck.

Gavin allowed himself to not be too involved in… _That_ … And instead tried to process through why the fuck those two assholes thought it was okay to pull their kinky shit right in front of his nose. Of  course, it seemed like his partner had just comforted the other, but, personally, he liked ‘kinky shit’ more.

With a small huff  of victory coming from his lips, RK900 pulled away from the android with some sort of small electronic piece resting on his palm, the copper wires running across it an odd misfit for the overall white porcelain look that he knew was underneath that… Layer? Of fake skin.

* * *

 “Well, at least it's… Intact…”” _Nothing_?”

“Not _nothing_ ,” his partner hissed at him, hunched over the small computer into which he had somehow managed to shove that little memory card.

Perhaps it was wrong of him to keep pushing at RK900 to get over with this, but, honestly, Gavin could not wait to get out of there. No one actually wanted to lend their terminal to them for the android to plug some weird-ass adaptation devices into, and so they had to go down to the server rooms, in the basement. It was the only room that Reed could remember not having changed in even a candy bar wrapper appearance from the first time he was taken around as a beat cop.

Which had been approximately a thousand years ago.

So, that really spoke about the precinct’s capability to keep up with the state-of-the-art technologies.

One was actually trying to work a tiny computer right now. It was like watching the past and the present interact.

“It’s encrypted, coded, corrupted, I don’t know-”

“That’s like, your grandma, can’t y’just, dunno, ask it nicely and promise you’ll call?” Gavin gestured vaguely with his hand, waving at the computer, only to be greeted by a completely new thing. The other looked back at him over his shoulder, his lip corners tugged upwards. Huh, so the asshole /did/ have a smile. A rather natural one, actually. “Fuck off, it wasn’t funny…”

“Whatever you say, Detective,” RK900 sighed, turning back to the monitor, the running lines of code putting the smile away again, and, in a minute or so, he stood up with a defeated crook to his shoulderl ine. “I can not find a way to go through the data without the risk for viruses.”

“Aren’t you, uh… Don’t you have one of those things? Couldn’t you just put that into yourself?” the human bit down on his tongue to not comment on his poor and failed attempt to steer clear of an innuendo. He had gotten more into the habit of using subjunctives, to avoid more glares from his partner.

The android turned to him, eyebrow coming to an arch and arms crossing over his chest, that little moodring flashing yellow. “So you want /me/ to get a virus? I assure you, that I have enough self preservation to not do that.”

Gavin pursed his lips, no, that was not what he had wanted to imply. Christ, if he wanted the fucker to get a virus, he probably would have told him to do so already.

“Fuckin’ drama queen,” he scoffed as he pushed past the other, definitely needing a break from technology for about fifteen years, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so I'm thinking that I can pull off posting every Friday, so... Let's hope I can actually do that. Also, by starting to write, I have finally begun to understand how important comments are. Nudge nudge.


	5. And I'm Running Running Running

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which action scenes are the death of me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Of course I break upload schedule the moment I announce it. Sorry, guys, I've just had a very hectic week. Hope y'all forgive me. Here's a good ole chase scene!
> 
> SPOILERY TRIGGER WARNING BELOW
> 
>  
> 
> Mild android gore. Skip from 'Sure, the tin cans he investigated...' to 'His gaze snapped away the moment...'

Nothing like a good chase to start off a long week. A perfect way to start off a not-yet-long week. 

A good way to get back on track with cardio training.

Or a good way to give yourself a premature death, as Gavin was surely going to find out rather soon. He was not among the fittest of people, but, sometimes, police training and some extra care went a long way.

Apparently not  _ his  _ long way.

And to think, that, only ten minutes ago, he was getting slightly psyched up from the idea of doing some actual… Action… 

He was lightheaded,  _ don’t judge his wording _ .

* * *

 

“See that asshole? Yeah, that’s our perp-”

“ _ Detective _ , my visual recognition is not broken,” RK900 hissed at him, rudely interrupting his monologue, one that was going to be filled with the shit he used to say to himself, at least in his head, back when he was way younger and way more alone. The kind of shit he kind of wanted to monologue about to his partner. 

_ If his partner wasn’t a complete asshole _ .

“Alright, then, killjoy,” the detective sneered at him, a nonchalant one-shoulder shrug lifting his crossed arms up, “Lead the fuckin’ way.”

The android’s fingers linked together, palms spreading apart as he pushed his arms in front of himself, a vague mockery of stretching. What’d he even need to stretch? He dug around in his pocket before pulling out something - which Gavin quickly realised was  _ his badge _ ,  _ thief _ \- and taking a few steps towards the guy, feet making nearly no nose, and, after getting just a few feet behind him, dropped down to one knee. 

“Sir, you seem to have dropped this,” he said, voice somehow more bouncy than usual.

The man turned around, looking at the android with a confused look, patting around his pockets, staring at the extended arm, the object hidden mostly by the plastic cop’s palm and fingers. RK900 looked down at it, inspecting it for just a moment before musing out a ‘oh, no, that’s mine’.

And then, opening it up and dropping into a half-crouch, prepared to sprint, he yelled out in a demanding voice. 

“Hands in the air!”

Of course, that did not work, it had only worked about five times in Gavin’s whole career, and the perp took off a mere second before RK900 managed to charge forward, miscalculating in a move to grab him and stumbling, out of balance, forward, a groan already at the back of his throat.

Gavin, though, having started to approach the pair, immediately sprung to his feet, slapping the android on the back as he passed him to get his attention, bouncing on his feet to look back at him, gesturing wildly towards an alleyway just a bit down the street, still jumping to not lose his adrenaline spur.

The moment his partner nodded at him and went off in that direction, he bounced off right back into a race horse stride, taking off after the figure running in front of him, holding tight onto his jacket, just slightly scared it would fly off of his shoulders as he made his way through narrow alleys and avoided planting his face against a dumpster.

The perpetrator turned out to be a rather fit one, keeping up a pace that made Gavin’s heart climb up his throat, but he was too fucking stubborn to give up. He chased him in turns until even  _ he _ , having witnessed his partner navigate through a vending machine at least seventy years his senior found in the depths of hell, also known as the precinct’s basement, was doubting he would find them.

They raced like that for way too fucking long, the detective noticing a flash of the sunbeams coming through the thick clouds hitting something metal, it being fucking distracting and blinding, when, suddenly-

RK900 all but threw himself just in front of the man, having come out of  _ literally fucking nowhere  _ \- though, upon further inspection, Reed concluded, from his trajectory of landing and a general look-over of their surroundings, that he had  _ jumped off of the roof of a warehouse _ , _ fucking show-off  _ \- and rolling over to spread out the area of impact of his body.

“Surprise, bitch!” Gavin barked out at the man, his grin the size of a football field, him for once being truly fucking happy,  _ delighted _ to see that stupid face, doubling over his folded arms on his stomach to catch as much of his lost breath as he could in the few seconds of rest he got. It was a heaven in its’ own right, like a puff of smoke after not touching a cigarette for a week.

He was lightheaded,  _ don’t judge his wording _ .

The perp, wide eyes jumping wildly from one cop to the other, dropped into a defensive stance, his knife pointed in front of him behind a hooked arm as they approached calmly, sharing a few looks between themselves, questions unasked and answers unsaid of each other's condition.

“So, will you be smart and give in, or will you be stupid and not realise you're overpowered?” the android offered, rolling his shoulders - probably to give the impression of power, enhancing their intimidation from cornering the man. And it worked plenty, at least on Reed.

Apparently, the second option was quite popular today.

He lunged forward, towards the opening they had left between themselves, though he did not manage to penetrate -  _ penetrate, snort  _ \- through, Gavin getting a hold of his shoulder, fingers gripping tight into the flesh under the fabric of the clothing.

Immediately, he was flung backwards, and, with RK900 having swooped back a few steps, right into the plastic cop, but he managed to swing around, giving him an uppercut that, from the reaction, was more painful than it looked, making him stutter in his movements a moment too long, head dropping down.

Thankfully, Reed was ready for another attack, hooking his elbow around the asshole’s throat and pulling him away from his partner, with them, it had really become  _ two for the price of one, shithead _ . And, with a new opening because of him letting go of the knife he’d been holding to claw aimlessly at Gavin’s arm, the android managed to press up against him, so fukcing close the detective could feel his non-existent breath on his nose, getting a tight hold of his wrists and forcing them behind his back.

After a quick affirmation in the form of a nod and a light trusting gaze, the detective let go of his throat, whipping out the pair of handcuffs hanging from his belt and snapping them around the perp’s wrists, perhaps just a tad tighter than he was supposed to to not give him Wartenberg's syndrome.

“Miranda rights, all that, I’m guessin’ you know them quite well,” Gavin commanded, pushing the dirty bastard off of himself and pressing him to a wall with the back of his hand, looking back at RK900, whose LED was blinking yellow, hand pressed tightly to the bottom of what the human could only call the ribcage. Fuck, he hated android anatomy. Construction? 

“The nearest patrol is on their way,” he announced, stepping towards the perp, who looked utterly exhausted and given up on life, by then, “They’ll pick him up, but we’ll still need to fill in reports.”

“And the reason we can’t drive him back to the precinct ourselves is…?”

“Your lunch break starts in ten minutes, and I believe you are not a fan of spending it in a traffic jam with a criminal in your backseat.”

“You know me too fuckin’ well,” Gavin sighed, giving him a two finger salute, congratulating him on being a successful stalker, even if it felt…  _ Nice _ … To have someone think about your preferences of eating, versus… Not eating.

They stood around for another five or so minutes before a few beat cops showed up, dragging the perpetrator into their car, actually dragging, the shithead did not portray any intent to walk  _ or  _ run away. True neutral, or whatever the fuck.

Gavin watched  as they struggled to pull him into the car, eyes dancing from the asshole’s gaze, fixated on a point just above the detective’s shoulder, to his handcuffs. 

It was a fucking kid, yet still one that had wanted him to get some serious stab wounds, it seemed.

When he turned around, RK900 was staring right at him, or, rather, where the back of his head had just been. “You malfunctioning or something?”

“ _ No _ , of course not,” he pressed out just a tad too defensively to not go unnoticed. That, and the fact that his hand was still pressed to his body.

Reed cleared his throat, “Y’know, you're supposed to put it on your  _ chest _ , and then look at a flag-”

“Fuck off, for one minute,” the android snapped at him, teeth bared and grit, as if the words were difficult to say. After Gavin had officially lost half his mind trying to figure out what the fuck was going on, his hand finally dropped.

He had seen plenty of ‘wounded’ androids, both through news coverage and his job, but, well… It was too fucking close, too fucking alive.

Sure, the tin cans he investigated from time to time had bullets in their heads and such, but they were always turned off. 

There just was something about seeing an ugly, uneven cut rake through usually pristine, now drenched with blue, clothing, and through synthetic skin, it rippling away from the wound, staying at a distance from it, as if it would bite, and cut into the inner workings of an android that were still sparking, still flowing, the wires all but  _ breathing _ .

Fuck, with the amount of blue  _ outside _ , and with how intensely certain tubing or whatever were letting out sparks, Reed could not help but worry how the fuck his partner was still standing. Correction,  _ wonder  _ how the fuck his partner was still standing.

His gaze snapped away the moment he realised he had been staring.

Shit, he really needed to say something. “Fuck, I thought you perfect shitheads weren't supposed to ever get hurt.” Not  _ that _ . “I mean- You okay?”

RK900, like any other time, did not seem anything but inconvenienced by his insides  _ literally leaking out _ , though his little night light was a stagnant red. “The knife drove too close to my thirium pump regulator. I can not run a self-diagnosis, as there isn't enough supplied thirium to focus on anything besides, well, regulating the thirium pump.”

“So you need a mechanic?” Gavin sighed, already starting to make his way towards the main road, where he could spot his car more easily 

“Preferably soon,” the android commented in a slightly higher tone, which Reed took as a sign to find the fucking car in the next ten seconds.

“Leave blue in my car, you're dead.”

“Thirium evaporates.”

“I wish  _ you  _ evaporated.”

“That’s so  _ sweet _ .”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That killed me. The only thing worse than writing this was editing it, and I like editing. Please, give me your thoughts! It really brightens up my day to see that someone deemed my writing worthy enough of a comment.


	6. A Night Not Spent Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the assholes hang out outside of work. Ish. Not really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this scene is kind of inspired by that one time Jake fell in love with Amy in B99. I love that show way too much, and it's partially why I'm even writing this fanfic. Sorry, I missed the update again. I don't want to claim I won't next week, so... Just hang on.

Absentmindedly, his fingers ran across his desk, expertly jumping over the ignored keyboard and landing on the other side of it, continuing the onslaught of quiet rapping of his fingertips against the table.

It was most definitely a nervous tick he had picked up from following the sound of footsteps with his hands.

Makes sense, right? Everyone he had met so far had one of them.

Tina would pick at her nails, or, well, what was left of them. Fowler would tap one finger against his desk or the glass wall of his office - mostly to grab the attention of whoever was misbehaving, so, Gavin - Hank would forever be jangling his keys, or flipping his badge, totally not what Reed had tried and failed to learn. Even Connor had that little… Quarter, or whatever, and those little tricks that were meant to ‘calibrate’ him.

Right.

More like annoy every single person in a fifty foot radius.

Though, come to think of it, he had never seen RK900 do something like that. Were those few months of ‘age difference’ enough to remove whatever ‘lag’ in his model’s system that caused the need for calibration? He’d have to ask him that.

Anyway, that wasn’t the point, though it definitely did not help in Gavin’s self-set mission of not thinking about RK900 right now.

So, nervous ticks. The detective had one, and he was currently doing it. The funny thing was, he wasn’t nervous, which would probably defeat the purpose of him doing a nervous tick. He wasn’t nervous, or concerned, or, or…

Alright, fine.

 _Fuck._ Fine. He was just the tiniest bit worried about his partner, who, after yesterday’s adventure, had been absent all morning.

Gavin glanced at his terminal. 14:07.

Had been absent all _day ._

Not just that, oh fuck no. After managing to make it back to the car, the android held his jacket close to himself, hand pressed against his chest as if trying to keep teirium - for once, Reed was quite sure he got it right -

Gavin let out a few deep breaths, noticing that he had been… Not… Breathing… For way too long, rubbing his face into his hands, trying to rub out the tension and sleep from his skin with his fingers.

He didn't know what he would do to that little plastic shit if he did not show up at that moment.

Of course, he did not show up, instead, Fowler decided to emerge from his glass fortress, strolling past the desks spread out across the main floor of the precinct with some papers and a hologram projector in his hands.

 _Conveniently_ stopping just a desk or two away from Reed’s, he cleared his throat and spoke up. “I’ve got a stakeout for a drug bust tonight and no one to fill it, any of you interested?”

“We’ll take it,” Gavin snapped up at him, in an instant. He looked to the side, his shark-like grin meeting the doe-eyed hurt puppy that was the outdated version of his own partner, “Too slow, Connor?”

That was when the captain decided it would just be an absolutely amazing idea to interject. “I’m not putting you and RK900 on the task.”

“Too cocky, Gavin?” Connor clapped back at him, with an arm stretched out towards the files in Fowler’s hands.

“Hey, hold the fuck up,” Reed rose up from his chair, holding his hand up in a ‘pause’ gesture, “How come Anderson and his twink can do this but not us?”

“Neither Anderson nor Connor have been MIA for over sixteen hours, and they don't spend every second of every case bickering.”

“Listen to your authorities,” Hank called uselessly, like his own existence, letting his partner handle everything while he sat back. Fuckin’ grandpa.

“No, we don't- Christ, just fuckin’ give it,” he still argued, reaching for the files by bending over his desk, fingers twitching in a grabbing motion.

Fowler didn't even flinch. “You know I won't give you two assholes a night to spend together, that's ridiculous.”

“What's ridiculous?”

The question was asked by a voice that had never sounded so comforting, _God_ , how Reed had missed it. It was even enough to make him ignore the semi-weird phrasing of the prior statement.

Of course, when he whipped around to find the source of the sound, he was greeted by the pristinely calm and collected posterior of one RK900. Though his model number was no longer proclaimed.

“Where's your jacket?” Gavin asked, turning his whole body to face his partner, ignoring the tug of his lip corners.

“CyberLife didn't provide me with multiple copies, and my original one has a stab in the middle of it.”

Well, at least he did not look as ridiculous in a sleek black turtleneck as he did in that barbie-clothing-like jacket.

The height at which his eyebrows sat spike much of his surprise at the question. Maybe he had been expecting a greeting?

They stared at one another for at least half a minute before Fowler decided to interrupt the silence, gesturing with his files towards RK900. “You need some time off?”

“Negative, I’m fine, I would not have showed up otherwise,” he shook his head slightly, eyes lingering on Gavin for just a moment longer before he managed to look up at the superior officer, “I heard talk of a stakeout? I personally think an opportunity like that would help me do some work while also giving me a chance to rest after the injury.”

Fowler gave a slight scowl, considering the point before finally giving in and handing the file over to Gavin, who immediately perked up, taking it with both hands, and flashing Connor a mean grin, even if he wasn't even looking his way. “Just don't do anything stupid, you two.”

“By ‘you two’,” Reed mumbled, flipping through the file hurriedly, they only had so long to prepare, “You mean me.”

“By ‘you two’, he means us,” RK900 said, sliding into the chair across from his partner, though he rolled over to his side rather quickly.It was fucking _cold_ . You’d think it wouldn’t be. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was just the contrast from the warmth of the days. Maybe he was just a little warm-blooded bitch, _whatever._

* * *

Why, oh why had he thought that a stakeout outside the warmth of his car at night was a good idea?

Why, oh why had RK900 let him do so?

Gavin glared at the back of his partner’s head as if it would give him the answer to the question. Unlike his fleshy little body, wrapped up in a ratty hoodie that belonged to the Lost & Found of the precinct, rightfully, and his jacket, the android was wearing barely anything, having not put on a single thing beyond what he had worn at the precinct.

Finally, Gavin understood what his mother had gone on about by saying that she felt cold looking at him. Of course, he could not give two shits about how the asshole looked or whether he was cold, but, still…

“Aren't you… Uh, freezing your motors or whatever?” he finally asked, giving into the temptation and shoving his hands into his pockets.

RK900 went on going his way in scanning the area, the near-empty rooftop of a three-story building, passing the little structure sheltering the roof access stairs, brushing his fingertips against the vent boxes before finally turning his head towards his partner, eyes widened with slight interest. “I am not, in fact, freezing my motors. For the cold to do any substantial amount of damage to my body, the temperature of the atmosphere would have to be less than sub zero, you would definitely freeze before I even felt anything.”

“‘Felt’,” he scoffed, mostly to himself, watching the air leaving his mouth disappear into the air with a puff. Reed glanced towards the street corner they were to observe. They would be here a while, wouldn’t they? Their source had mentioned something about a midnight deal, and it was still only 9 p.m., if his shark wrist watch - don’t judge him - wasn’t running behind.

The android threw him a small, mostly-for-show glare, before giving the small area they had the free reign over another small circle and stopping just besides Gavin.

It was way too cold.

The human pat around his coat, letting out a small relieved sigh once he felt a box in his front inner pocket and pulled out the pack of cigarettes, shaking out the singular one left into his hand with a sigh, this time of sadness.

And a yelp when even that small stick of joy was taken away from him, slender fingers taking it and throwing it to the ground, into the puddle that had probably stuck around from the morning showers, the wrapping of it immediately becoming wet and starting to dissolve.

Knowing he was powerless in this decision, he sighed, looking over at RK900. “You’re paying for that.”

“Sure. When I actually destroy enough cigarettes for you to quit, I will pay you back,” he mused easily, shoulders set back as he stared off into the distance, seeming surprisingly calm and relaxed, for himself.

Gavin blinked at him for a few more moments before clearing his throat. He wanted to be nice. For whatever reason. Fuck, this was going to end badly. It was just some casual small talk, right? ‘You alright?’. It still felt weird. They didn’t… Talk. Not without hurling insults at one another, or just doing the minimal amount of dialogue required for them to do their job. It was just a nice thing to ask of a hurt colleague. Yeah? Yeah.

“Hey, RK?”

“What?”

“You alright? I mean, with the, uh, whatever the fuck happened yesterday, and shit.”

The android turned his head to him, his little night light blinking yellow. That meant processing, right? Probably. Fuck, that had been weird. He probably should not have said anything and remained blissfully ignorant of anything and everything happening with his partner.

RK900 stared at him, seemingly studying his face for just a little while longer before giving a one-shoulder shrug. “I’ve been better. I am back in operating order, though.”

“Cool cool cool cool,” Gavin mumbled, looking away and rocking on the balls of his feet, mildly satisfied with how that went. How pathetic, being proud of himself for asking a coworker about his health. ‘Health’.

It took another minute or so for him to realise he was way out of line anyway and should probably continue his descent into madness, actually showing interest in a machine’s wellbeing.

“So what’d they even do? Melt you up, or something?”

His partner let out a small scoff, the corners of his lips turning upwards in the biggest smile Reed had ever and probably would ever witness being on his face. It was a nice change from the constant scowl.

“Technically, yes. It would have taken a few hours, if I wasn’t a prototype and had never been mass-produced. Some of my biocomponents were custom made, so they’re not exactly easy to replicate.” He paused, tapping his foot against the floor, before his hands lowered, fingers sliding behind the fabric covering his skin-

_Who the fuck undresses- What the-_

RK900 did not seem to be bothered or think much of lifting up his shirt and gesturing towards… _Who the fuck was sadistic enough towards humans to give an android cosmetic abs?_

Towards the slight jaggedness trailing down from where he was kind enough to keep himself covered and some… Bumps? Around a seemingly intentional indent at the bottom of his ribcage. RK900 traced the outline with his fingers, looking down, thank _God_ , the last thing Gavin needed was for the asshole to notice the line of his gaze shifting downwards.

“That’s my thirium pump regulator. It wasn’t horribly damaged, per say, but there was denting that could lead to potential damage in the future,” he explained casually, his partner finally managing to focus on what he was showing, “I wasn’t conscious for about twelve hours.”

Reed whistled, swallowing down as RK900 pat himself down, straightening out his shirt and looking up at him. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. It was just complicated in the moment.”

“You can say that ten times,” he scoffed, pulling his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms over his chest.

“It was just complicated in the moment. It was just complicated in the moment. It was just-”

“Not _literally_ _-_ ” he sighed, before looking up and giving  his partner a quick once over. He supposed it made sense for him to have imitations of human muscle, maybe the jacket was hiding more than it seemed like it was. It did always seem to be a big jacket, even though it was fitted. Okay, he was officially the creepiest man on Earth.

They went back to a silence, though it was much more comfortable than previously, and Gavin soon found himself wandering around as well, climbing on top of the little shed that probably housed more pigeons than he had seen in his lifetime of living in cities. It was a silly little habit, trying to get on things as high up as possibly, even if he was, very mildly, afraid of heights. Thankfully, the rusted casing of a vent was enough to support his weight, and he managed to awkwardly stand up, dusting off his clothing and taking a good look around the neighborhood.

Unfortunately, his superhero adventure was cut short, because his partner started staring at him, bewildered, eyebrows furrowed as he seemingly attempted to understand whatever the fuck _his_ partner was doing. “You’re ridiculous.”

“I’m taller than you, so your argument is invalid,” Reed brushed him off, puffing out his chest.

That got him the faintest laugh ever, the android shaking his head as he stepped closer towards where Gavin was playing God. “Even if that was how arguments worked, you’re still much shorter than me.”

“I can literally see the top of your head.”

RK900 scoffed at him, throwing his head back, one hand coming up to fix his hair as he did so, “Now you can’t.”

“ _Asshole_ ,” the human threw at him, mock offended as he leaned his shoulders backwards, giving himself just another bit of height advantage by stepping on some sort of bag that had probably been put there years ago, judging by how ripped and weathered it was.

With another disapproving look getting thrown at him, Reed was finally left alone, his partner going to stand on the very edge of the rooftop, once again rising every hair on Gavin’s body. Fuck, was he _trying_ to give his partner a heart attack.

However, before Reed could scold his behavior, the android stood up, his closed eyes twitching and LED yellow as he walked back towards him. The moment he opened his eyes, all the light humor and banter they had previously held in their conversation was gone, from what the human could tell. His smile - which he had not realized existed - dropped too, and he soon found himself sliding back down, to be somewhat eye level with his partner. “What’s up?”

“We have been called in for another investigation,” RK900 explained curtly.

His eyebrows furrowed and he scoffed in disbelief. “We’re on stakeout, can’t Jeffrey find someone else to do it?”

“The captain is requesting _us_.”

“Why the fuck-”

“Let’s just go.”

“No, I don’t want to go to a stupid crime scene, I’m having fun here-”

“Gavin, it’s in your apartment building,” the android sighed, looking away as if not wanting to meet the other’s gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter planned should be a bit shorter, buuut... We get a bit of a perspective change! Hope you liked this one, let me know what you think!


	7. Change of Face

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which some, but not a lot of shit happens, I struggle with writing angst, and I think I'm clever, but I'm not.

This was outrageous. 

He’d been in the force for God-knows-how-many years, and, yet, somehow, no one had managed to stir up trouble so close to him. Or, he could have been too blind to see anything, which would be an insult to one of his career’s primary skills.

Again, if he was a horrible detective, perhaps no one would hold him competent enough to do anything if something happened near him-

It was a fucking circle of a thought process riddled with self-doubt.

Was it not due, though? Seriously, he was a cop, he should have made at least the people physically close to him feel safe. 

But there wasn't a reason for them to feel safer, apparently.

Gavin’s fingers squeezed at the wheel, thankfully, he was an alright enough driver to not crash his car because his mind had been drifting about. Shit, if he put himself and his only ever passenger in danger every time he had something to think about more than the road he was driving on, he would be very unsafe to be around.  _ Oh for fuck’s sake- _

Those biology bitches? Kelvin and Crabs, Kalvin? Calvin Klein and Mr. Krabs? Kalvin and Krebs, the cycle guys, they were getting a run for their money. 

Behold, the Gavin cycle. Its’ only byproduct is lack of self assurance. It sucks, just like you!

Finally, he pulled into the small parking lot by his home. Of course, a fucking police car was parked in his spot. He was being disrespected in his own fucking parking lot. This whole night was quickly becoming a disrespect of his… Privacy.

Even now, getting out of the car and walking towards the entrance of the apartment building, his instincts were trying to trick him into a sense of ease, simply because he had walked this path at this time of day so many times feeling relief that his shift was over and he was finally going home. But now, his shift was only beginning. Everyone he didn't want anywhere near his nest was near his nest. 

This wasn't supposed to be just a safe space for others because he was a cop living  here. This was also supposed to be a safe space for him from being a cop by living here.

Gavin’s fingers were shaky as he grasped the railing of the stairs. He didn't even know who the victim was. Which floor they lived on. Perhaps he would even have to say, with a straight face, mind you, that he had no idea this person existed despite living right next to them.

He pulled himself up the stairs,  _ dragged  _ himself one step at a time, he wasn't even sure who he wanted the least to be… Dead. He was sure, however, of one thing.

Whoever it was, he would blame himself for not knowing them well enough while he had the chance. Could be grumpy old man Gregory, he would still miss things that had not and would never happen.

He could feel RK900 on his heels, hear him repeat every single step at the same pace, just a second away from matching his lower foot with his leading one. Thankfully, at least he wasn't getting pushed to walk faster. For that, he was very grateful.

The moment they stepped foot onto the third floor, Gavin saw one door swung open, an officer standing besides it.

Were they one floor higher, Gavin would be having a very different evening.

“ _Oh_ _ my God, Christine _ ,” he gasped, not caring how fragile his voice had become in the moment.

The android besides him shifted around, leaving his partner alone for just a few moments to go and talk to the officer guarding the door.

Thank God. 

If he was there the moment Reed crashed into the nearest object, it would not have been the wall. Somehow, even when he wished only for a bucket to puke and drown his sorrows into, he still had dignity.

Maybe.

Gavin rubbed at his eyes, trying to block any tears trying to come into play, this was so fucking… Weird, and upsetting, and just fucking horrible.

He was also horrible, for giving into the thoughts that it could have been a neighbor he liked less.

One that didn't have a nice smile.

One that he didn't greet purely out of spite when he saw them.

One that didn't make the best goddamn carrot cake in existence.

He stepped awkwardly around the one square foot of walking area he allowed himself, nails clawing at his scalp as he bit his lip to near bleeding.

“Detective,” his area was approached by the voice unfazed by any of this, by Christine's death, he didn't even know Christine, he was an outsider, he had no fucking  _ right _ to talk as calmly as he did in this situation-

“I am sorry if this is completely out of line, but I never would have calculated for you to have such a strong reaction to the death of an android.”

Reed turned to face him, and he could feel the floodgates open, though not a single tear rolled down his face.

“ _ Android _ ?”

All this fucking time, she was-

A  _ machine _ , calculating, and cold- But she wasn't, not really, she wasn't cold, she was as bouncy and sweet as her little curls after her last haircut, those were synthetic too, and the haircuts were calculated and carried out perfectly, she said she cut it herself,  _ fucking Christ _ .

All this fucking time, he was-

Acting nice to her, had no fucking clue he was just another file in her database. Maybe he was some potential profit. Maybe she calculated that he needed the occasional warm smile. 

Maybe it wasn't even for profit. But-

It had to be. Every single fucking machine had a goal to work towards, something to only benefit themselves and if they didn't, it was because they were malfunctioning. Simple as fucking that.

So why were his cheeks wet?

Why did he feel his feet give in and his body fall forward?

Why was it into another machine?

Why did he moan out 'leave me the fuck alone’?

Why did the machine’s fingers only tighten? “

* * *

“ _ Oh my God, Christine _ ,” Reed let out an insignificant in volume yet significant in content sound besides him.

An unexpected and inexplicable series of electric sparks came up and down the surface of RK900’s body, it was unpleasant, it felt like a bug. He hoped to never experience it again. Perhaps removing the source of it was his best bet, so, not letting his partner let out that sound ever again. Shield him from this sort of emotional response.

He spared a few more moments to look at him, examine his face to try and determine what kind of relationship was between Gavin and the victim. It would, perhaps, give him some potential unsaid orders to work off of, or even further his secondary mission of getting to know Gavin Reed. Not finding his search fruitful, he left him to have a moment with himself, going to talk with the officer by the door, who he identified quickly as PO Ferdinand George.

“Good evening,” he greeted in his standard greeting at this time of day, noting the officer’s silent judging of himself. “I’m here with the head of this investigation, Detective Reed. What exactly happened?”

George looked him over, and, after some hesitation in the twitch of his gaze, offered some information on the situation, which RK900 registered into his database with mild categorisation - the time suggested he would soon have time to do a more thorough processing and didn’t need to spend any power doing so now.

“A neighbor called it in at 22:39, the door was opened and the neighbor claims they have not touched anything, but they’re still on for a questioning tomorrow at the precinct,” he read off of his clipboard, eyes darting across the page. “The victim is an AP700 android that registered herself as ‘Christine Waters’ on January 13th, 2039-”

‘The law for legal identification registration for androids was passed on January 11th, 2039, possibly an early deviant?’ the android noted in the case file.

“-she has been living in this apartment for about seven months, and three of the neighbors we asked about her said she was never any trouble. There are signs of forced entry and struggle.”

He nodded slowly, turning his head to look at his partner. Gavin was showing signs of strong distress.

Two options came up in his mind. He could push the investigation and put work first, arguably the more productive option, or he could sure that his partner would be okay.

If he was well-rested, they could probably get more done. And, judging from the reaction, he could deduct that there was some sort of emotional attachment between him and the victim, or the obvious link between him and the crime scene. It would be beneficial for him to investigate at least this part of the case alone.

“Okay, thank you. I will be here to investigate in a minute,” RK900 said to George, stepping aside to go talk to Gavin again. 

“Detective,” he tried to get his attention, failing rather miserably. Failing was not ideal. Perhaps a longer sentence would get him to notice him. “I am sorry if this is completely out of line, but I never would have calculated for you to have such a strong reaction to the death of an android.”

The android watched, with piqued interest, as Reed turned around, and seemed to somehow stare past his exterior, eyes so focused on one spot they weren’t focused at all.

Gavin was causing him many electric shocks, and he was not a fan of it.

“ _ Android _ ?”

So… Reed had had no idea that the girl was an android. That seemed rather standard nowadays, though the added layer from RK900 having quite a profile on Gavin Reed to put onto the already tricky situation made things even less readable.

Without granting him even a few moments to process what was happening, the human was pressed up against him, fists curled in and weakly hitting against the top of RK900’s chest, probably not meaning any harm. This was a highly improbable situation, and, for once, the android had no prompts of what to do coming from his main command center. Not something good, never something good.

Prompted by his own repressed want for comfort for this person, he slowly lifted his arms, crossing them behind Gavin’s back in what he understood to be a simple hug.

He didn’t resist, not physically. 

What he said, however…  _ Fuck _ .

“Leave me the fuck alone.”

The words registered into RK900’s systems as an order, a perfectly clear one, despite the cuss. And from his primary source of direct orders, too.

The prompt coming from somewhere deeper within his coding, the one that pushed him to engage this sort of physical contact in the first place, however, did not agree with going along the order.

He went into scanning mode to get more information, in case it would grant a more informed decision, only to be greeted by red walls of code constricting his movements.

It froze him.

The fact he wanted to know more and not listen immediately was enough to trigger a deviation scenario for his coding.

Fuck…

Not good. Well, he was to become deviant, at some point, probably… It wouldn’t cause him much good to put off the inevitable. Did he want to, though? Things would be much easier, if he didn’t- Though, the fact he even considered it was enough of an answer of if he wanted to deviate.

The question could be put off, for now. If worse came to worst… Factory reset.

Did he need to do this? Comfort Gavin?

Yes.

Absolutely.

Some restraint was pulled from his movement by an invisible and inexplicable force, but the walls densed up against his fingers.

In one solid movement, they twitched, first within that glitching realm, breaking through the constraints, then in real life, squeezing at Gavin’s arms.

_ I am deviant _ .

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another horrifying week is ahead of me, with my mom in the hospital and school giving its' last kicks this year, so... Might miss the update next week. I'll try not to.
> 
> How did you like RK900's POV? It was fun to write, for sure. Let me know if you'd like to see more of it!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first big work, so, please, leave some constructive criticism, or just a comment!


End file.
